


Gold

by LaLainaJ



Category: The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Dirty Talk, F/F, F/M, Humanity Switch, Masturbation, Mildly Dubious Consent, Multi, Non-Consensual Bondage, Smut, crackfic elements, dark!Caroline, ignores The Originals canon, magical roofies, offscreen threesomes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-14
Updated: 2015-06-12
Packaged: 2018-03-17 20:39:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3543053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaLainaJ/pseuds/LaLainaJ
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set after episode 6x15. Caroline has flipped the switch and gotten the hell out of Mystic Falls. Her friends can't find her but they know someone who can. Klaus finally tracks her down in Las Vegas (or so he thinks).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Stages One Through Three

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, it's another one. This one was inspired by Angelikah's drabbles (she writes amazing dom!Klaus and I wanted to see a little of the reverse scenario). Some minor plot crept into my smut. Hope nobody minds! This takes place after Caroline flipped the switch so TVD stuff applies. TO canon however, does not. No Hayley, no baby, no resurrections or extra Mikaelson’s that no one cares about. Title is from the Chet Faker song of the same name.

**Part One: Stages One Through Three**

 

She’s a vision of black and gold when he finds her.

 Klaus has been scouring the country for months, ever since her useless friends called him, back in February. From what he’d gathered the Bennett witch had insisted Damon call him, after the Salvatore’s had tried (and failed) to track Caroline down. Her mother had died and she’d flipped the switch. Tracking spells had proven useless (and he'd be interested in learning how she’d pulled that one off). The Salvatore’s had exhausted their contacts and news articles on mysterious deaths were too for them to handle on their own. Damon and Stefan had wasted more than a month before asking for his help, overconfident in their own abilities. Caroline had eluded them at every turn.

Damon’s motivation to find Caroline was a combination of obligation, to the memory of Liz Forbes, and his susceptibility to Elena Gilbert’s incessant nagging.  Damon had been incredulous that Caroline had been able to stay several steps ahead of him. Dismissive of the need for Klaus' help on the phone. The elder Salvatore thought far too much of his meagre intelligence. He was completely blind to anything beyond the wants of the doppelgänger he was currently obsessed with. Damon, still convinced that he and Stefan would be able to track Caroline down, only made the call to Klaus under duress in the form of the threat of magical aneurysms.

Klaus had been livid, and wished they’d thought to make their plea in person. It had quite clearly been far too long since Damon Salvatore had been properly tortured, and Klaus was itching to remedy that. Perhaps he would finally, finally, manage to teach the other vampire the value of keeping his mouth shut.

As it was, to maintain his temper, Klaus had only stayed on the line long enough to demand to speak to Stefan, and for Stefan to relay the necessary details. Caroline had led her friends on a merry chase across the eastern seaboard. It was an impressive accomplishment for the girl who'd never left her small town. They'd underestimated Caroline, but then they always had. Her pretty, perky, outer shell caused a lot of people to miss what lay inside. A sharp mind and ruthless heart made Caroline a magnificent vampire.

He'd never underestimated her, though. Klaus had seen it, right from the beginning. When she’d glared, and spoken disdainfully, to him, her only hope of surviving the night, from her deathbed. Without on ounce of fear or even a hint of entreaty.

Klaus had hung up on The Ripper, not bothering to assure Stefan that he’d find, and return, Caroline. He would find her, obviously. Nothing would stop him. But Caroline didn’t belong in Mystic Falls and Klaus would never make her return somewhere she did not want to. The Salvatore’s had provided several leads. Klaus had wasted no time in compelling half a dozen vampires to assist him in searching. He'd briefed Elijah, Rebekah and Marcel on what needed accomplishing in his absence.

He’d been on a flight out of New Orleans less than three hours after the call had come in.

Five of the six vampires Klaus had compelled had required replacing. Three had died by Caroline’s hand, and two by Klaus’. The first he’d killed quickly for being utterly incompetent. The fool had let his neck to get snapped, and allowed Caroline to make a getaway. The other had died rather more gruesomely, because he was an imbecile. He'd been seduced, bedded and then ditched by the blonde vampire he was tracking. Klaus had never handled disappointment well.

But he'd been careful to choose somewhat less attractive replacements.

It was actually the survivor of the first batch, Martha, a petite brunette, turned in the 1940’s, which he was set to meet. She had proven to have something of a knack for going unnoticed, and had sent him a message that she had found Caroline twelve hours ago. Martha had been tailing Caroline ever since. She was motivated, having had two close calls before, one in Toronto and another in Miami. Both had resulted in Caroline managing to slip away. Martha was well aware that this would be her third strike.

Klaus had promised a reward, a healthy sum of cash, if Martha managed to keep eyes on the target until he could get there. And the threat of imminent death, if Caroline managed to slip away again, was implied.

Klaus met Martha at the location she’d texted him an hour ago, the bar on the second floor of an upscale vampire club in Las Vegas. Upon finding her he’d raised a single eyebrow in question. Martha had simply pointed towards the dance floor that made up the first story of the club in reply.

He did enjoy it when things went his way.

Scanning the floor, he'd found what he was looking for. Klaus laid eyes on Caroline Forbes for the first time in more than a year and a half. In the center of the crowd, she was dancing provocatively with a couple who appeared to be a good ten years her senior.  

He gripped the rail in front of him, feeling the metal give under his strength. His body is reacts, to the sight of her, despite his best efforts. Lust sparks in his gut, kindles in his limbs. He'd been smitten with Caroline’s light, back in Mystic Falls. He’d liked her kindness and her loyalty just as much as her quick wit and fearlessness.

But he’d also found the little hints of darkness fascinating. She was a fighter, a killer, fierce when she had to be. It was the girl who’d taken to vampirism with such alacrity, that covered her monster with sunny smiles, that most intrigued him.

Klaus had fantasies about Caroline that started much like this, the two of them on a dancefloor bodies pressed together, heating up. They ended with the two of them in a bed, skin to skin, feeding and fucking until they were both too exhausted for more.  

Klaus sensed someone coming up on his left, but kept his eyes on Caroline’s rolling hips. It was only Martha, who followed his line of sight and remarked, “She’s pretty.”

“Stunning,” Klaus corrected. Because pretty was far too bland a word.

“What’d she do to piss you off bad enough to chase her around the continental United States, Canada and Mexico?”

Klaus smirked, “That is none of your business and beyond the scope of this arrangement, my dear.” He caught her eyes to release her from some of the compulsion he’d used, “Your task is complete. You are no longer obligated to track Caroline Forbes. You are no longer obligated to contact me every twelve hours with status reports.”

Martha would, of course, still be unable to speak of him to anyone and she would forget her precise task, and Caroline’s existence, as soon as she left his presence. One could never be too cautious.

“The money I promised," Klaus continued, "and a bonus for your most excellent work, will be deposited in the account you provided tomorrow afternoon.”

Martha nodded and waited for him to speak again. This one would make an excellent underling, and he’d remember her in the future, “You may go now,” he dismissed.

Without a word she disappeared into the crowd and Klaus turned back to watch Caroline.  He ordered a drink (bourbon, and no, he wouldn’t be needing blood at the moment) from the waitress that appeared.

He couldn’t see her face, at that moment, but he’d know those waves of blonde hair just about anywhere. Caroline's not dressed in the colors and prints she favors, but that happens to a vampire that turns off their humanity. The tight black dress leaves much of her back bare. The flashing lights spark off the gold of her jewellery. He’d wager that she’s wearing heels both sky high and come-hither.

Without emotions a vampire’s existence narrows to needs and wants. They still need blood, and they still want sex. The miles of tempting skin Caroline is displaying is a purposeful and effective lure. Humans will gladly offer her their blood and their bodies, all for the privilege of touching her.

The curvy redhead grinding on Caroline’s thigh, as the blonde feeds from her neck, seems quite content with the arrangement. The redhead’s male companion’s hand is just beginning to wander beyond Caroline’s waist when Klaus decides it’s time to make his move.

Draining the bourbon while descending the staircase Klaus knows he has to get her out of the building. The pheromones are flying and there are far too many people bleeding to have any sort of rational conversation.

He comes up behind the threesome on the dancefloor. His trajectory is obvious and the male sends him a glare that is meant to be intimidating.

Silly human.

The redhead takes no notice of him, engrossed in Caroline, panting and moaning.

Klaus presses himself to Caroline’s back, sweeps her hair over one shoulder and murmurs into her ear, “You’re a difficult woman to find, Caroline Forbes.”

She doesn’t fight him, quite the contrary, she allows her body to melt back into him. She grinds her backside into his cock. He is half hard behind his zipper, just from watching her.  After a moment Caroline unhooks her fangs from the woman. She tips her head back, against his shoulder, presses her face into his neck and purrs, “Hello, Klaus.”

 

 

 

She’s not the least bit surprised that Klaus is here.

For one, surprise is an emotion, and emotions aren’t really things that she does at the moment. And for another, Caroline had managed to swipe the phone that belonged to the brunette vamp chick, who’d been on her ass for months, five weeks ago.

So Caroline’s not surprised. She’s just satisfied her plan is falling into place.

Brunette chick’s name was Martha, Caroline had learned, and she reported to a ‘KM’ at least twice a day. Any idiot could have figured out who that was, going through the texts and emails, and Caroline was no idiot.

Caroline was on a schedule and Klaus, sending random compelled lackeys after her, was screwing with it.

Pilfering her stalker’s phone had been the first stage of the plan. Caroline had an adorable little compelled computer nerd she’d met in San Francisco on speed dial.  He'd worked his magic so that any calls or texts Martha received from Klaus were duplicated and sent to Caroline. The phone had been slipped back into Martha's bag, all in under ten minutes, and right under her nose.

Yeah, Caroline really was that awesome.

But seriously, Milton was a gem. She was totally going to turn him next time she saw him.

Stage two had been allowing Martha to catch a glimpse of her in Vegas, and pretending to be oblivious to the woman following her ever since.

Which hello, Caroline had been in danger pretty consistently for literally years now. She’d developed superb situational awareness, thank you very much. 

Sure enough, Martha had informed Klaus of Caroline’s whereabouts. She imagined him cringing upon hearing she was in Las Vegas with all of its gaudy neon and well-advertised strippers. Klaus had texted Martha early this morning asking for picture confirming that she’d found ‘the target’ (AKA her) and had sent several more texts throughout the day with updates on his travel progress.

Caroline had received the text Klaus sent to her shadow saying he’d arrived at McCarran International twenty minutes ago and she had been waiting on his arrival ever since so she could consider stage three (direct contact with Klaus) complete.

The thing was Caroline wasn’t very good at waiting. She’d met Jordan (or was it Jason?) and Anne VanSomethingorother from Madison, Wisconsin who were celebrating their third wedding anniversary. They were pretty obviously hoping to celebrate it with her.

She was wearing leather so it was kind of traditional, Caroline supposed. She’d bought a couple rounds of ‘congrats!’ shots for the happy couple and then invited them to dance.

Jordan was the kind of dreamy she’d been into as a teenager. Anne moved well. Caroline decided they were a decent enough diversion.

The couple had been stiff and nervous to start with, but Caroline had brushed up against them both, encouraged the touches with coy little smile and Anne gradually grew bolder. Jordan was more into watching, staying behind his wife, only brushing his hands along Caroline's waist occasionally. So Caroline had focused on Anne, sliding their bodies together in rhythm with the heavy bass. She'd listening to the acceleration of Anne's heartbeat, and eventually slipped her leg in between Anne’s and pressed upwards. The other woman had been more than happy to rub herself against Caroline’s thigh leaving a damp trail on her skin as they danced. Anne had then slipped her hand under the side of Caroline’s dress and thumbed a nipple to an aching peak and Caroline had taken the opportunity to satiate another kind of hunger.

Anne’s blood was delicious, some of the best regular old human blood she’s had. Note to self: eat more people from Wisconsin.

But she only got a couple of mouthfuls when she felt a familiar warm, hard chest at her back, felt those long calloused fingers in her hair, and his breath on her neck. She let herself relax against him. He was definitely happy to see her, if the bulge pressing against her ass was anything to go by.

Stage three was looking like a success.

Caroline didn’t resist the urge to press her nose to Klaus’ throat, reacquainting her senses with the smell of him. Some blood smeared from her lips onto him and she licked it off.

It tasted even better on his skin.

Klaus groaned, his hands clamped down on her hips, stopping them from moving against him, and consequently stilling her movements against Anne, who mumbled a protest.

The poor thing looked painfully close to getting off.

Klaus quickly removed Anne’s hand from her breast, “Say goodnight to your nice human friends, Caroline.”

“Nope,” she said. Caroline was ninety-five percent certain that Klaus wouldn’t have sex with her in her current, humanity-free, state so he couldn’t begrudge her a good time, could he?

“Fine, I’ll do it.”

Ugh. Apparently he could.

Klaus reaches out, faster than the humans would be able to process, and grabbed Jordan by the neck, and pulled him in, mashing the four of them together, “You’re going to leave this club and forget everything that happened inside of it and you’re going to take your girlfriend,”

“Wife,” Caroline chimed in.

“And you’re going to take your wife with you. Take her to one of those horrid buffets.”

Jordan repeated the compulsion and he drew Anne, weakened from blood loss, away without a fuss.

“Happy anniversary!” Caroline called to the retreating couple. She pouted, and turned to face Klaus, resting her hands on his chest. “You could have at least compelled them to have superhot anniversary sex, you know. Since they won't be having it with me.”

“How was I to know it was their anniversary?”

Caroline shrugged, “Don’t you know everything? I thought that was your M.O.”

“If I knew everything, Caroline, would it have taken me this long to find you?”

“Exceeding expectations is kind of my thing. Plus, I lived with Katherine for a while and she was chock full of helpful ‘how to be a kickass vampire’ tips.”

“I’m sure Katerina would find it thrilling to know she managed to be a nuisance to me from beyond the grave.”

“Probably. So what do you want?”

“You know what I want, love.”

Caroline rolled her eyes, “You want me to turn my humanity back on. For reasons I don’t care about. It’s not going to happen. I thought killing and fucking your minions made my thoughts on the subject pretty clear. Now, do you want to help me pick out my new entertainment for the night? I’ll share if you ask real nicely,” she ran her hands slowly down his chest but he stopped her exploration before she got to the fun parts.

“Your night is finished, Caroline.”

“You’re a fun sucker, Klaus.”

“I’d apologize, love, but I would be lying. Now, where are you staying?”

Caroline licked her lips, “Are you asking for an invitation back to my hotel room? What kind of girl do you think I am?”

Klaus let out an exasperated huff, “I know exactly what kind of girl you usually are, and that’s what we’re going to _talk_ about at your hotel room.”

The sigh that Caroline released was annoyed, “Fine. We can talk. But I’m on vervain, so you can’t compel me.”

Klaus raised a brow, “Were you expecting me then?”

“Eventually, yes.”

“You know there are ways around the vervain in your system.”

“Are you going to bleed me, Klaus? Maybe lock me in a room for a few days? That will put a major damper on those intentions you harbored for me.”

“Harbor, love. Present tense. And no, I don’t plan on bleeding you, holding you against your will, or even compelling you. Your friend Bonnie told me not to, do you want to tell me why?”

“No.”

Klaus studied her and she met his gaze impassively, “Maybe someday?” he asked quietly.

“Who knows?”

“I’m persistent. Now, your hotel?

“The Chairman Suite at The Bellagio.”

Klaus chuckled, “Impressive.”

“I had a lucky streak in the casino.”

“Compulsion?”

“A little, at the poker tables. And one big, risky, roulette spin.”

He nodded, “Well, my car’s outside. After you, Caroline.”

“The hotel comped me a very fancy bottle of champagne. We’ll crack it when we get there. Since that’s our thing, right?”

“I thought we didn’t have a thing,” Klaus joked, one hand on her back, ushering her to the front exit.

Caroline merely smirked, but did not reply. He really was playing right into her hands and step four was going to be amazing.


	2. Stage Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Klaus wakes up, disoriented, and in an unfamiliar situation. Caroline's a genius.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn’t get to watch TVD last night so I only know from tumblr that dark!Caroline is awesome. It’s about to get smutty, now. WARNINGS: Smut. Somewhat non-consensual bondage. Shades of non-con in general. Klaus uses the ‘c’ word once or twice. As well as borderline crack elements.

**Part 2: Stage Four**

Klaus regains consciousness slowly, too slowly, which is the first clue that something is amiss.

He doesn’t sleep much, or particularly deeply. His body had long ago trained itself to waken at full alertness, ready to fight or flee as needed. That hasn’t changed even if unlocking his werewolf side had rendered him nearly indestructible and killing his father removed the largest credible threat to his life. Habits solidified over centuries don’t just disappear over a handful of years.

It’s a struggle for Klaus to open his eyelids, adding to the unease he’s feeling. It’s like he’s hungover, a feat that would take several bottles of strong liquor, a thing that rarely occurs. He manages to look around, he still feels groggy, but he sees enough to learn that he’s in bedroom. It’s posh but nondescript, the décor lacking any hint of personality in a way that screams hotel. The last thing he remembers is accepting a third glass of champagne from Caroline…

Klaus forces himself to concentrate. He opens his mouth to call her name, but his tongue is thick and slow and won’t wrap around the sounds. It comes out as a jumble on consonants. He tries to sit up but cannot manage it. His limbs feel weak and heavy and don’t seem to be responding to signals from his brain.

What in the bloody hell is happening to him?

Klaus tries, and fails, to move his arms again. Is this what panic feels like? It’s been ages and he’s not quite sure.

Glancing up he sees the problem. His wrists are bound in heavy leather cuffs and tied to the headboard with lengths of purple rope. He tries to pull free and pulls even harder when he cannot. It should be nothing to shred that rope and yet it won't give under his exertions. Klaus looks down and finds that he’s missing his jacket, shirt and boots and that his legs are immobilized in a similar fashion.

Before he can process the new information a door opens to his left and Caroline walks out of the ensuite bathroom.

For a moment he’s relieved to see her, to know that she’s unhurt. His mind has regained its usual quickness, even if his body remains uncooperative, and is making connections.

Caroline's straightened her hair and changed her clothes (more black and more leather and the killer heels dangling from her fingertips match her deep red lips this time). She’s stuffing a fistful of jewelry into a red bag, and seems entirely unconcerned about his predicament.

This can only mean that she is the cause of said predicament.

Klaus’ blood begins to boil and it only highlights his current frailty. He is staggeringly angry with her, and irritated with himself. He’d underestimated Caroline, managing to do the exact thing that he’d been mentally (and verbally, over the phone) berating her friends for. And in making that mistake he’s now helpless as a newborn kitten and completely at her mercy.

“Oh, you’re awake,” she says, “comfy?”

Klaus inhales deeply, attempting calm, to prevent himself from shouting at her. It won’t do any good. She doesn’t fear him, even with her humanity intact, “What is the meaning of this, Caroline?”

She sits on the bed, crosses one leg over the other to strap on a shoe, “You can relax, you know.”

“Unlikely,” Klaus snaps immediately.  

“I’m not plotting to kill you.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time, sweetheart,” he reminds her. Klaus can’t help but notice that the loose black shirt she’s wearing is see-through and that her bra is black and lace.

“Oh, please. It’s been years. Hell, last time I _tried_ to kill you I didn’t even _want_ to kill you.” Finished with her shoes Caroline then sighs, and flops down onto the bed, her hair draping across the pillow next to him, “You really need to learn to let things go, Klaus.”

Klaus shift his head to the side so he can look at her incredulously, “Oh? Have you managed to complete a psychology degree whilst flitting around North America?”

She gives him a deadpan look, so reminiscent of the real Caroline, Klaus misses the first part of her retort, “…scared of dying which, newsflash, is not a thing you have to worry about. A shrink would just be dumb, not to mention a waste of your money. Hey, do you like these shoes? Red and black is kind of a vamp cliché, you know? But I don’t want to go full funeral and the gold ones don’t really go with the earrings I compelled earlier.” She lifts her feet in the air and twists them to and fro.

He’s tempted to ask if she’s serious, if she honestly thinks that her accessories are the most pertinent thing they need to discuss at the moment.

But then she probably does. Bloody humanity switch. It really was a bother.

“What did you do to me, Caroline?”

“I drugged you.”

“Right, I gathered that, actually. I’m more interested in why. And how.”

“I witch-roofied the champagne.”

“But you drank the champagne.”

“I drank the antidote first. Duh.”

“There’s an antidote?”

“Yup.”

Klaus waited, hoping she would perhaps elaborate. When she didn’t he attempts a different line of questioning, “And where did you acquire this ‘witch-roofie’?”

“Witches.”

Klaus blew out an aggravated breath.

Caroline flipped onto her side, towards him, bent her arm at the elbow, and propped her head on her hand, “I got the idea from Elena. She got hooked on witch-LSD when Damon died. And now she has the nerve to lecture me about my coping mechanisms.”

“Pity Damon didn’t stay dead,” Klaus said. “Now, who’s this witch friend of yours? Not the Bennett girl, obviously.”

“Weak, Klaus. I thought you were supposed to be good at this.”

He gritted his teeth, “Caroline, I don’t think you understand…”

She cut him off, “Oh, I understand perfectly. You’re tied to the bed, outmaneuvered by little ol’ me. And you hate it. You’d like nothing more than to kill the witch who made it possible. Why would I give you a name and a target? I like you like this. In fact...”

Klaus watches a wicked little gleam enter her eye and the next thing he knows she’s straddling his hips. Her short skirt bunches high on her thighs as she settles against him, “Caroline,” he started warningly.

“What did I just say about relaxing?” She runs her index finger down the center of his torso, from collarbone to the buckle on his belt.

Klaus fights a shudder.

“Do you want me Klaus?” she asks, as though it’s not a loaded question. But then the answer won’t matter to her, one way or the other, right now.

“I do, Caroline. Just…”

“Not like this,” she finished for him. “That’s what I thought. Too bad.” She traces the same path on his body, this time letting her fingernail bite into his skin. There was no stopping the shudder this time, or the involuntary arch of his spine to follow the touch. His cock begins to harden and there’s no way she can miss it, situated as she is.

She’s watching his skin, watching the red mark she'd made on it fade away, before she meets his eyes and deliberately rocks against him.

Klaus bites his lip and only just manages to stop from gasping. The pressure is exquisite. He should really look away but the view, Caroline tugging her skirt up higher, exposing the black lace between her thighs for a moment, is far too tempting.

Caroline doesn’t bother to restrain her own pleasured sounds at the friction she’s creating for herself. The first moan comes from deep in her throat and it drives him mad. She spreads her legs wider, presses her palms to his stomach, and makes slow circles with her hips, rubs her pussy against his rapidly hardening cock, accursedly still trapped in his jeans. Her body jolts and she pants slightly at the crest of each motion, where her clit grinds against his pubic bone and the lace and denim separating them.

It’s torture as she’s doing it and it’s torture when she stops.

He watches, with great interest, as she closes her eyes and reigns herself in, her hands going to her hair as she tries to focus. It’s fascinating, not what he’s come to expect from vampires in her state, but so Caroline all the same.

“Rules,” she says, not to him but to herself, “remember the rules.”

 “What rules?” he asks.

“There are four,” she tells him. Her eyes open and she drops her hands down to rest on top of her thighs. “First rule: I keep it off for a year, tops.”

 Klaus is surprised. Her friends hadn't mentioned this, “You planned this?”

“Um, yeah. I planned everything. I made extensive lists. I got through the funeral, and then I flipped the switch.”

“Why?”

“Why not?”

“The grief will still be there in a year, love.”

“I know. But it’ll be distant. And I need the distance. Practically everyone in my life has died, you know? Died and come back. I wouldn’t have been able to stop myself from looking for a way to bring her back too. And she wouldn’t have wanted that. She wanted an ordinary death.”

Klaus considers that, “And what would the Sherriff have thought about what you’re doing right now?”

"Right now, right now? We kind of operated under a 'don't ask don't tell' policy when it came to sex."

"You're deflecting," he accused.

Caroline makes a derisive noise, “What does it matter? She'd say the same thing my so called friends did. That I’m stronger than this, that this isn’t me, blah, blah, blah.”

“Far be it for me to agree with the likes of The Salvatore’s but…”

“Then don’t,” she cuts him off. “How do I know this isn’t me, huh? I’ve only ever been a good vampire, because that’s what everyone expected. Damon kills people when his feelings get hurt. Enzo kills people just for funsies. Stefan’s massacred entire towns. Elena got the blood munchies after hallucinating about her dead boyfriend and started eating people in the woods. Why did I have to try so hard, feel so guilty, and they don’t? Why do I have to be strong, all the fucking time?”

Klaus wished that he could touch her. And not even for her, because she doesn't need to be soothed, her voice remains even, her recital matter of fact. He wants to touch her for him, because he needs it. He’s forgotten, in the 18 months they’ve been apart, how this sort of empathy pokes at all the tender spots he pretends not to have.

But she won't welcome his tenderness right now so he moves forward and inquires, “Second rule, love?”

“The second one’s just practical. Minimal killing, cause it’s the 21st century and you’re always on camera. I don’t need an America’s Most Wanted poster haunting me if I try to go back to college.”

Klaus notes the ‘if’ and files it away, “And the third?”

“No compulsion induced sexcapades.”

“Ah,” Klaus remarks, understanding dawning.

“Yeah, I’ve been the girl who couldn’t say no, and I won’t do that to someone else. It’s not like it’s hard to get a yes, anyway. A little leg and a lot of boob usually seal the deal just fine.”

“And vice versa, I’m sure,” Klaus speculates, wry humor coloring his tone, looking her up and down.

“Exactly! The only downside is how breakable humans are. I might’ve had to heal a couple of broken bones in the beginning.”

“Why not stick with vampires, love?”

“And make it easier for you to find me? That was one of Katherine’s first tips. 'One never knows what vampires are in which Original’s pockets,' she said. I only hang out in vamp friendly places when I’m getting ready to leave a city.”

That explained why so many of the leads he’d followed had been dead ends. Clever girl, his Caroline.

“Thanks for ruining my second attempt at a threesome, by the way. The first one didn’t go so well.”

Klaus has to think for a moment, does he really need the details? But his curiosity is too much to contain so he prompts, “Oh? Do tell.”

“Two dudes. More into each other than into me. Hot to watch but ultimately unsatisfying. I mean really, if I have to get myself off I might as well just watch porn.”

“Not very gentlemanly,” Klaus commiserates.

“Right? I had high hopes for Mr. and Mrs. Wisconsin. I’m not totally sold on women just yet but they seem to know how to make me come more reliably than your average 20 something guy.”

Klaus made an agreeing noise, not knowing how to reply, and shifts restlessly underneath her, his imagination really working against him at the moment. Caroline, of course, noticed.

“So rule three means I can’t fuck you, even if you couldn’t stop me and your, shall we say equipment, is raring to go. You’re not technically compelled but you are definitely saying no, right?”

“Correct, sweetheart.”

“Fuck,” she says, aggravation clear on her face, and rocks against him again, “That sucks. I’m so turned on right now, Klaus.”

“I know,” he says, because he can smell it. He watches her fingers begin to run slowly up and down her smooth thighs.

Caroline smirks down at him, having noted his interest in the sight of her stroking her own skin. “I should probably say I’m sorry for striping you.”

“Probably,” Klaus agrees and doesn't bother to chide her for the lack of an actual apology.

“You want to know a secret?” Caroline asks, in a conspiring whisper.

“About you? Always.”

“I meant it when I said I like you like this. God, maybe it was the complete lack of partner induced orgasms since we had sex in the woods somehow frying my brain, but this scenario was all over my spank bank.”

Klaus is fairly certain of what she means but can’t help himself from asking her to clarify, “Spank bank?”

She rolls her eyes, “You’re a thousand years old, Klaus. Please tell me you’re not one of those guys who denies the existence of female masturbation.”

He can’t help but bark a laugh at that and she moans as it causes them to press more firmly together, “You really should stop fooling around with boys, Caroline, if that’s the kind of idea they hold true. It’s no wonder you were frustrated.”

“Am frustrated,” she complains. She stops moving for a moment and tips her head to the side, studying him as though struck by a new idea.

It’s unnerving how transparent she is like this. So many of their past interactions had been layered. Caroline had always been trying to hide her true thoughts and motivations from him while he tried to push past her walls. To be able to read her face so plainly makes him wary.

 And his instincts prove correct, since she lifts up without warning and shuffles forward so that she’s spread higher on his abdomen, his cock no longer pressed against her. It’s both a relief and a torment.

“I just thought of a loophole,” she declares, and Klaus notes the triumph in her voice.

Fuck. That is not good. That is not good at all. Klaus is awash with equal parts anticipation and dread.

The hands she’d been using to caress herself begin to move more deliberately. One slips up her shirt and cups a breast over her bra. The other slips under her skirt and into her knickers. He can’t see much, the leather of her skirt is obscuring her hand, but the arch of her back as she lifts and sinks down lets him know she’s got at least one finger buried in her sheath.

Klaus’ mouth dries, his heart begins to beat faster. He knows that he must be gazing at her like a wide eyed virgin, who’s not quite sure where to look first, but quite frankly he does not care. He’s not even sure whose fantasies they’re enacting right now because watching her touch herself had definitely featured heavily in his.

“Do you want me to lose the skirt?” she asks him.

Klaus swallows the ‘yes’ that wants to come out of his mouth. But he can’t force out a ‘no’ either. He settles on a short nod, because it’s been such a long time since he’s considered himself a good man.

The smile she gives him makes his breath catch and she pulls both of her hands away from their activities. She smirks at him as she wipes her damned fingers across his chest. Caroline's taunting him, smearing her juices onto his skin, marking him with her scent in the process and causing his control to slip at a rate that is almost appalling.

He wants the taste of her in his mouth again. Desperately.

Caroline moves both of her hands behind her back, and he hears the skirt's zipper open but she pauses, waiting for something, “Say please,” she requests of him.

Klaus glares at her, presses his lips together in refusal. He’s not the begging type and not far gone enough to go against his nature just yet.

She waits a few beats, shrugs and remarks, “Interesting,” then shimmies the skirt up her body and over her head, probably in deference to the spindly heels of the shoes she’s still wearing. They would make standing on the bed difficult, even with a vampire’s enhanced strength and balance.

“What’s interesting?” he finds himself asking.

That seductive, breath stealing, smile graces her lips again as she returns one hand to her breasts, pulling both of the cups of her bra down this time, propping the lush flesh up and allowing Klaus to see how hard her nipples are through the sheer fabric she wears. Caroline doesn’t answer him, though. Just touches herself, circling one nipple, than the other, with her fingertips. A scrape of a nail here, a rough pinch and tug there. Just watching him watch her.

So engrossed, is he, that he completely misses her other hand sneaking behind her to cup his erection roughly over his jeans. He jerks and growls out, “Caroline!”

“Shh,” she hushes him and unbuckles and unzips him. Her fingers move clinically and do not linger, “I recognize that I’m blurring the lines here but that seemed painful.”

Klaus doesn’t protest because she’s right, he’d been aching, and also because he’s certain that, were she to touch him again to put his cock back inside his jeans he’s come in her hand before she could complete the task.

“Now, where was I?” She pretends to think about it, index finger pressed to her lips, “Oh, right. Here,” she sinks two fingers back into her depths and sighs in relief. Klaus watches her face for a moment before sliding his greedy gaze down her body, the soaked lace she wears does little to obscure the sight of her fingers working her slick core.

The little noises she makes, increasing in urgency, as she fucks herself sear into his brain. She picks up speed as she goes until her fingers are moving furiously. Klaus is only just hanging on to all the reasons why he can’t ask her to ride him instead.

Klaus stretches his arms out a bit, wraps his hands around the ropes and clenches them in his fists so tightly they burn.

She’s eyeing his white knuckles with interest, “God this is hot. I never bothered to imagine you actually tied up, but it’s working for me.”

Fuck it. He can only take so much, “Tell me what you imagined, Caroline.” He phrases it like a demand, not a plea, but she knows that she’s in charge. He can tell that she likes it, that part of what's getting her off right now is the power she's wielding. Klaus has played these games once or twice in his long life but he's never enjoyed them quite so much.

Klaus watches her add a third finger, the little whine she lets out at the stretch has the tension in his belly coiling tighter. Without warning Caroline pulls the hand working her breasts away and rolls forward, planting it next to his head. He can’t watch her touching herself at the new angle but the hand that’s been working inside of her is now pinned between them. He feels Caroline take advantage of the new leverage, her knuckles dig into him as she grinds down harder on her fingers and rubs her clit with the heel of her hand.

She’s above him now, her hair floating around his face and her voice is husky as she does what he's asked, “Sometimes you take me, like you did in the woods. We managed an impressive number of positions that day,”

“Yes we did,” Klaus recalls, unable to help feeling smug.

“But in my head we’ve done so many more. I want to suck you off in the shower, Klaus. I want to sit on your lap with my legs spread as wide as they can go while you play with my clit and I come over and over. I want it fast and rough from behind.”

“Fuck, Caroline,” Klaus can’t help but groan, adjusting below her as much as he is able. He’d never imagined she’d be one to talk dirty but she’s brilliant at it.

“And sometimes,” she makes a particularly aggressive swivel of her hips and pants for a moment, “Jesus, I’m almost there.”

He needs her to finish her thought first, “Sometimes what, love?”

“Sometimes I take you," she rasps out, "I didn’t imagine the restraints, because I figured they wouldn’t work given your freaky hybrid strength.”

 “A reasonable inference,” he says, watching her avidly. There’s a group of witches, more prone to personal avarice than most covens, near Paris, who charge hefty sums to spell bondage equipment for vampires with a taste for it. Caroline doesn’t need to know that at the moment, however. No need to provide her with more ideas. Klaus watches her begin to unravel. She's flushed and dampened with sweat and he's aching to lick her skin.

“But I give you orders," she manages to continue shakily, "You can’t touch me unless I let you. I make you watch as I touch myself. You come when I tell you to.”

So this _is_ her fantasy, then. That it aligns with his is just a bonus.

“Sometimes I kneel over you and you fuck me with your tongue. Then I pin your hands and ride you so, so slowly, until you beg me to go faster so you can finish.”

It's sensory overload. Hearing that she's fantasized about him, in detail. She sight of her on top of him. The scent of her juices. The feel of them, slick and hot on his skin. He licks his lips, recalls the taste of her.

Fuck, is he ever ridiculously close to coming right now, despite the fact that she's not touched him much at all. His muscles are so taut he’d be sore tomorrow from the tension if not for his healing capabilities.

“Sometimes…” she trails off, eyes squeezed shut. Her supporting arm buckles and she collapses against him, rubs her chest against his. He can feel the scrape of her nipples through her flimsy shirt and then she’s writhing and moaning through a powerful climax.

Klaus arms move with the urge to hold her against him, thwarted by his bonds, and he just manages not to find his own release.

She quiets, keeping her face tucked into his shoulder. Once her breathing has returned to normal she sits up, whimpering as she stimulates herself with the three fingers still inside her pussy. She shifts up to gingerly remove them, more of her wetness leaking out onto his stomach.

“Well, if I wasn’t sure before I am now. Sweet Lord, I am a genius. Best loophole ever.”

Klaus manages a hoarse chuckle, torn on whether he agrees or not. On the one hand, it had been one of the most erotic experiences in his long life and he’d relive it in meticulous detail when he finally got free. But he was still rock hard and throbbing and sure that she was going to leave soon.

Confirming his suspicions she climbs off of him, though he’s pleased to note her legs are shaky as she stands from the bed. She bends over, peeling the ruined knickers off, and he moans at the sight of her sex from that angle, bare, swollen and still dripping.

Caroline picks up her discarded skirt and puts it back on, flits to a mirror to smooth her hair and reapply the lipstick she’s chewed off of her lips. She reaches into her shirt to get her bra back into place and puts on a necklace and a bracelet she'd left on the dressing table.

She turns back to face him, drinks in the sight for a moment, and Klaus can’t help but preen a bit. At least he wouldn’t be the only one reliving this interlude.

Caroline clears her throat, “Now, the witch told me the stuff I used on you would weaken an average vampire for about thirty-six hours. I’m guessing, since you’re super old and also a werewolf, that it’ll burn through your system much faster.”

Klaus takes a moment to take stock of his body. He does feel a bit better, the awkward weightiness of his limbs having abated somewhat, “How long has it been?”

“You were out for just about two hours, and I wasn’t exactly watching the clock while we were doing,” she gestures at the bed he was still bound to, “that. Were you?”

Klaus scoffs and attempts to shock her, “It’s a little late to be shy love. You fingered your cunt to climax on top of me while telling me all your naughtiest fantasies.”

“Yeah. That. And since you’ll be right as rain soon enough it’s time for me to go. Do you want me to compel a maid to release you in an hour or so or do you want to wait it out and get yourself free?”

Klaus considers, his current state would be somewhat embarrassing to be found in it’s true, but he can always compel the chosen staff member to forget it. And he is a bit hungry so a snack coming to him sounds splendid, “The maid, if you please, sweetheart.”

“Alright,” she agrees, collects the bag she’d been packing earlier and gives him a little wave, “Bye Klaus. I had a blast, we should do this again sometime,” she jokes.

“This isn’t over, Caroline.”

“I figured,” she answers, resigned. “So I guess I should’ve said see you later.”

Klaus is glad they understand one another, “Just one question? Before you go.”

Caroline turns, presses her back against the door, and crosses her arms, “Sure. Why not?”

“What was the fourth rule?”

Caroline wrinkles her nose in distaste, “No tattoos. Can you imagine the hideous tramp stamp I’d pick right now? Nothing I’d want to be stuck with for an eternity, that’s for sure.”

Klaus shakes his head, amused, and settles back into the bed, listening to the click her heels as she exits the room, taking deep breaths to will the arousal still humming in his body away.

He’ll find her again, he’s sure of it. He just needs to be patient.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Suggestions on things you’d like to see going forward? The initial plan was to flash forward to Caroline being herself again but I’m tempted to write more smutty cat and mouse adventures.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter did not want to be written! And should be subtitled, 'Once again, Laine cannot stick to an outline.' Thanks to those who've reviewed! I do enjoy reading your thoughts. I'm still avoiding dark!Caroline on the show so consider this is AU after she initially flips the switch.

**Part Three: Mice and Cats**

Caroline's got a stake in her purse, a vampire on her trail and a plan to manage an annoying hybrid pain in her ass.

She feigns an interest in a window display and clearly her stalker hasn't been paying enough attention. Does she look like the kind of girl who would pair zebra stripes with mustard yellow? Yuck. She'd rather walk on the beach at 2PM without her daylight ring.

She can see the reflection of her pursuer in the glass. He's across the street and about a half a block down, acting like a clueless tourist with a map out. Once again she marvels at the fact that she didn't catch on sooner.

Sloppy, Caroline. Very sloppy.

She'd grown complacent, sure that she was lost in the masses of humans in New York City. She hadn't focused enough on her surroundings, too busy trying to sort out her inner dissatisfaction.

Wasn't the point of flipping the switch to end such a thing? She'd signed up for good times and inner peace, thank you very much. What she's gotten has been a little different. Oh, she'd never admit it out loud, but in the privacy of her own mind, Caroline recognized the feeling for what it was. Boredom. Crushing, all consuming, never ending, boredom.

Six days ago had marked five months without humanity. A milestone deserving of commemorating, Caroline had thought. She'd asked the concierge at the five star hotel she was staying at where he'd send a girl looking for liquor that tasted like candy and he'd directed her to a swanky little lounge a few blocks away. She hadn't noticed it then, but the vampire currently tailing her had been seated in an armchair, reading a beat up paperback, at her hotel that day.

The lounge did serve amazing martinis. She'd indulged in several of the pink lemonade variety (super delicious so good job concierge!). After her third she'd met a German architecture student named Tobias, who had very pretty blue eyes, and smelled like oranges and mint. After her seventh she'd put her hand on his crotch and asked him where he lived. Tobias had been as tasty as his scent had suggested, and more than willing to let her pin him to his bed. It was only after she'd discovered he was a cuddler (which ew, no) and had to make a getaway.

She'd rolled off of him and then went to compel herself a present. Cobalt blue Giuseppe Zanotti sandals. Plus lingerie and a bracelet to match.

God, it was going to suck shopping at the mall again once she was back to normal and morally against using compulsion for non-essential personal gain. Life without La Perla was going to be bleak. Caroline was stocking up now, while her notions of right and wrong were still bendy. She'd pretty much started as soon as she flipped the switch.

Caroline had vamp sped out of Mystic Falls two days after her mom's funeral with nothing but her purse and the clothes she'd been wearing. The cell phone had been ditched immediately and she'd found a trucker more than willing to stop for a pretty blonde with her thumb out. He'd been a bit of a perv, but he'd gotten her to Richmond, and she'd compelled him forget her (and also to never pick up another hitchhiker, the gross loser) when he'd started to hint about all the ways she could repay his kindness.

If Stefan and Elena had half a brain between them (doubtful, sometimes) they would have known Richmond would be her first stop, so she didn't stay long. Just long enough to do a little shopping and find a ride out of town. Hey, if HumanityOffElena got a wardrobe upgrade Caroline thought she deserved one too. Initially, she'd channeled Katherine with her picks. Caroline had stolen all things black and tight and bad girl sexy. It had been kind of fun, slipping into that skin. Katherine might have been a mega bitch but she was tough, and in the end, had done Caroline a favor by killing her. Katherine had also relished in vampirism, the only female acquaintance of Caroline's to ever do so (if you didn't count that moron Ivy, which Caroline did not) and that was what Caroline wanted to do for her year of freedom.

But she was still Caroline under it all and drawn to bright colors and patterns. And since the point of turning off her humanity was to do whatever the fuck she wanted to she decided to go with her gut, after a few months. Plus, heading into summer, she might as well mix it up. Leather was gross when it got sweaty.

A little pink skirt here, an orange dress there. She started to mesh a bit of Katherine style with Caroline style. It ended up being more revealing than what she would have worn back in Mystic Falls (where there was always an old lady offering to pray for you if you flashed too much thigh) but a little more true to the real Caroline. And still pretty damn hot, if she did say so herself. The real Caroline would appreciate the new wardrobe eventually. If nothing else the closet reorganization would keep her busy. When she had a closet again. Hell, when she had a home again, because the house she grew up in should have been long sold by the time the year was up (should have, because she'd left it up to Damon, and who knows what he would do).

But that wasn't worth thinking of, at the moment. Caroline needed to stop thinking about the future. Until the week she'd allotted to make plans for where she'd be when she flipped the switch back on started, she didn't intend to think about plans beyond the next four hours or so.

In her present she had few worries, even if it wasn't the gleeful good time she'd imagined, and she liked it that way. She'd take a little boredom over the alternative. The rules for operating without humanity were limiting, and perhaps abandoning them could have alleviated her overwhelming apathy, but Caroline would stick to them. Even if she might be bending them occasionally. Example A: Klaus (and she still maintained that the loophole was pure brilliance, thank you). Example B: the cocky wannabe NASCAR driver in Indianapolis who she'd compelled to be more considerate of future sexual partners because he hadn't seemed to grasp the fact that swallowing was always optional for a lady (the broken fingers she'd caused, wrenching his hands out of her hair, would serve as an object lesson). Example C… well, she didn't feel like making a list just now.

Lists were kind of a specialty of hers, after all, and she could be at it for hours. She'd have plenty of time to make one entitled 'Things Caroline Should Feel Guilty About' when guilt was actually a thing she was capable of. She suspected that it would be a much longer list than the 'Things Caroline Really Does Feels Guilty About' list and the 'People Caroline Needs To Apologize To' list in the end.

She's sticking to cities. They make it easier to feed and they don't remind her of her mom. Liz Forbes had been small town, and content with that. The post college graduation mother-daughter road trip Caroline had been planning on badgering her mom into taking was filled stops at B&B's, national parks, and little out of the way towns that boasted weird museums or cute tourist attractions.

The last thing she needed was for her humanity flip back on before she willed it to, leaving her a sobbing mess in a public place, surrounded by strangers, so small towns were out.

The way she's seeing the cities, though? Makes them all blend together. It's all dinner at fancy restaurants, drinks at trendy bars. She peruses expensive shops and finds beautiful, tasty humans to sustain her.

Music, art, culture? Not so much.

Human Caroline had wanted to be small town, wanted to fall into a fairy tale kind of love, have kids and grow old with her best friends. Vampire Caroline couldn't have any of that, couldn't stay in Mystic Falls with a face that would be seventeen forever. But it had made her better. She'd worked her ass off to like herself more than she wanted others to like her and, along the way, a bit of wanderlust had grown.

Encouraged by people like Klaus. Enzo, who'd driven with her out of Virginia for her very first, non-parentally accompanied, trip. And her mother, who thought she was extraordinary, and wanted her to live an amazing life.

Sometime since she'd died in that hospital bed Caroline had decided that she would see the world, and that she wanted to. But she knew she shouldn't do it with her humanity off. She wouldn't grasp the beauty of it, or even appreciate the ugliness, in an authentic way, and it would taint the experience.

So she lived a shallow existence. Catered to her impulses. Fed from the vein. Compelled her way into owning any shiny, pretty thing that struck her fancy. Drank too much, ate dessert for breakfast and breakfast for dinner. Had sex when she wanted it, how she wanted it, and didn't apologize to anyone.

It had been exhilarating and liberating but the novelty was beginning to wear off.

It just didn't quite fit. With her humanity on Caroline liked people. With it off she had little use for them outside of blood and various services (mixing drinks, baking triple chocolate cupcakes, fetching those heels in a size 9).

Humanity having Caroline loved projects. She enjoyed parties, but she adored planning them more. Humanity off Caroline slept in late, snacked on the help at the hotel, wandered around stores, returned to her hotel, got decked out to lure in the prey, danced, drank, went home with a stranger, fed, fucked.

Lather, rinse, repeat.

It got dull, was all. And she'd needed a diversion.

Luckily, one had been provided for her in the form of a vampire in his early 20's (scrawny, unfortunate nose, orange hair) she'd noticed tailing her three days ago, the one she'd sharpened the stake in her purse for, who was going to lead her to Klaus.

Three days ago she'd just finished up a kickass cheeseburger and was considering what she wanted to do with the rest of her afternoon. She'd just about exhausted New York City and was mulling her next stop. Caroline was leaning towards going south, before it got too hot, so maybe she should get some bikinis? Not noting her surroundings, she'd turned a corner, bumped into an extremely tall woman wearing a questionable seersucker pantsuit, and dropped her bag. A guy had turned the same corner shortly after and stopped dead upon seeing her throwing her belongings back into her bag. He'd kind of twitched when she'd asked him what his problem was (because seriously, a polite guy would have helped, not gawked). He hadn't replied, just walked around her and fled, a touch too quickly and smoothly, in a way that was unique to vampires. She'd shrugged it off at first, but when she spotted him again at the club she went to that night, then thought back over the last few days and realized he'd been around far too often for it to be coincidental, she knew something was up.

Now, she'd gleaned enough about vamp etiquette from Damon, Stefan and Katherine (mostly Katherine, to be honest. Damon was altogether useless as a sire, not to mention a dick, and non-ripper Stefan was too self-loathing to have spent much time in vampire communities. Katherine was chock full of fun facts, in comparison) to know that she hadn't offended anyone in New York. She healed and compelled when she fed. She didn't steal more than one or two things from a given boutique and didn't use any vampire abilities in ways that would be noticeable to humans. Not that New Yorkers were much for noticing, she'd found.

But the fact remained that none of the native vampires should be out for her head. So the logical conclusion was that GingerVampGuy was one of Klaus' lackeys.

This one was pretty sneaky too. She actually had no idea how long GingerVampGuy had been following her (seriously, so humiliating). Apparently Klaus had compelled vampires with more brains this time, if less pleasing to the eye (deliberately, she'd guess, because he probably didn't approve of her banging his flunkies). She really shouldn't have expected anything less. There was a reason Klaus was still kicking, despite the fact that he seemed to piss off supernaturals more easily than most people breathed.

Discovering that she'd been made had left her with a quandary, and three viable solutions. First option: kill GingerVampGuy. Klaus' minions were always older than her, true, but not seriously hurting her seemed to be a key part of the compulsion they were under, which had allowed her to best them in fights. Caroline had already dispatched three of Klaus' Caroline Stalking Squad ™ and she was pretty sure she'd feel terrible about that later, despite the fact that she'd been clear on wanting to be left alone, and even clearer that there would be consequences should she not be.

It was also possible that Klaus had changed their marching orders, which was totally her own fault. She maybe shouldn't have gone straight to witch roofies and bondage last time. Klaus had been caught off guard in Vegas, never suspecting that she'd drug him or even that he could be drugged. He wouldn't make it so easy on her a second time.

Also, he was probably pissed.

Klaus might have been relatively relaxed when she'd waltzed out of that hotel room. And she'd sent someone to release him as promised. But she first might have sent another someone to gather her belongings and ship them to a PO Box in Missouri first. Hey, she'd only taken one little bag, and she wanted to keep some of the other things strewn about that hotel room.

And that first maid might have been compelled to snap a picture of Klaus, tied up and aroused. His abs still covered with the slick remains of her orgasm. And to text her the picture.

She couldn't resist, okay? If one of the hottest, non-sex, sexual experiences of her life wasn't a Kodak moment, deserving of immortalization, what was? It's not like she was posting it online or anything.

She was pretty certain Klaus wouldn't quite agree with her justification though. He was super into his 'Big Bad Original Hybrid' persona and that picture did not support said persona.

And so, despite considering it, she had decided to avoid direct confrontation with GingerVampGuy, because it was entirely possible that her actions had pushed Klaus too far and she'd end up with a snapped neck, and in a cushy cell.

The next option to be considered was simply bailing, covering her tracks and picking a new city, forcing Klaus to start tracking her all over again. Rationally, she knew this was the best option.

But again…

She. Was. So. Fucking. Bored.

And Las Vegas had been stimulating, to say the least. It just wasn't fair that despite having some truly excellent sex these last few months that the experience with Klaus stood out as a highlight, when he hadn't even touched her. So she decided to go with option three and wait for Klaus catch up with her again. See what happened.

The problem with that plan popped up within a day. Klaus didn't find her. And now, days later, she was still waiting on him. Seriously, Klaus had been on a flight mere hours after confirming her identity in Las Vegas. GingerVampGuy had been following her like a puppy for who knows how long, so what exactly was Klaus' problem?

Today, she'd woken up and decided she was done with waiting, and that she would mount an offensive, avoiding direct confrontation be damned. She kept up her usual routine, GingerVampGuy in tow, though he didn't know that she knew he was following her, and still, not a peep out of Klaus. Last night she'd gone out of her way to find a guy who looked kind of like him (a little shorter, green-eyed not blue, and he'd been from New Zealand, so the accent was wrong) in the hopes of sparking some jealousy, but nada.

Maybe he was over her. She was almost offended.

If he was over her though, he could damn well stop having vampires follow her every move, something she would be sure to tell him. And if he wasn't over her, well, she had plenty of ideas about breaking down his pesky unwillingness to jump into the sack with her in her present, switch off, state.

First, she had to figure out where the fuck he was. GingerVampGuy and the stake in her purse would help with that.

* * *

Klaus hears the sharp click-clack of high heels on hardwood first. He brings his hand up to catch the iPhone that is thrown with great force, and deadly accuracy, at his face, second. And third, he puts his sketchbook aside, leans back in his chair and says, "Hello, Caroline."

"Klaus. Your minion said you were expecting me."

"Indeed I was, days ago."

Caroline seats herself on the chair across from him, "Ugh, you're a jackass."

"I've been called worse, love."

Caroline snorts, "Yeah, by me."

Klaus nods his head in acknowledgement, but does not reply. He studies her, notes the hints of pale pink in her ensemble, when she'd been clad all in black before. The photos had picked up the change of course, but he does like to look at her.

She tilts her head to the side and studies him right back, waiting for him to speak. But Klaus has lived for thousands of years and while patience is not in his nature, he can call upon reserves when the situation calls for it.

The silence stretches, grows strained. Klaus lifts the glass of scotch he'd abandoned before she'd walked in and takes a sip.

Caroline lets out a tiny impatient huff and Klaus resists smiling. She's not a particularly patient person either, and five months of constant instant gratification has not improved that quality. She toys with the hem of her skirt and re-crosses her legs before apparently resigning herself to losing their little battle of wills, "Not offering your guest a refreshment? That's rude."

"I think I'm exempt from offering courtesies considering you arrived uninvited, and tried to brain me with your cellphone upon entering, don't you?" he said and tossed the device back to her.

Caroline caught it and then waved a hand at him dismissively, "You'd have been fine."

"Mmm. The principle remains, I think. But do help yourself. You know there's little I would deny you."

Her lips twist wryly, "Funny, I remember you denying me something, at our last meeting." Again, Klaus refrains from commenting.

There's a tray on the coffee table between them, a crystal decanter and three tumblers on it. Caroline hesitates, as she should. The last time she'd provided a beverage for him he'd ended up shackled to a bed and she's right to think he hasn't forgotten it. Still, he'd never be so uncreative as to directly copy her moves and she must reach the same conclusion. She pours a generous helping of scotch and leans back in her seat. "So how'd you find me so quickly this time?"

"I never lost you this time, in point of fact." Klaus tells her and watches her digest it, little flickers of surprise and curiosity crossing her face but not taking root.

"Huh."

"Is Arnold alive?" Klaus asks, though he truly does not care either way.

"GingerVampGuy's name is Arnold? Ugh. God, he must hate his parents."

"We've never discussed it."

"Yes, I'd imagine you don't spend much time talking about the childhoods of the vampires you compel to stalk me."

"Or the ones I compel to do anything, really."

Caroline rolls her eyes, "What's your deal, Klaus?"

Klaus maintains the unconcerned façade he's been affecting and pretends he doesn't know what she means, "My 'deal?'"

She's becoming irritated, the heel of her shoe grinding into the hardwood as their back and forth continues and she grows tense. Klaus will have to remember to get the floor fixed, lest Elijah have a fit next time he comes to New York.

"You've been here for a week and I haven't seen a glimpse of you."

"Actually, I've been here for twelve days, love. I arrived the shortly after you did."

"My point exactly!"

"Perhaps I was waiting for an extraordinary moment."

Her brows furrow, "That's gibberish. What does that even mean?"

"The Art of War, Caroline. Ever read it?"

"No. I had exactly zero patience for the pretentious unwashed hipsters in the Philosophy department at Whitmore."

"You should, love."

"I'll make a note," she declared sarcastically. "It sounds super fun. Are you going to answer my question?"

"About my 'deal?'"

"Duh."

Klaus shrugged, "It's been awhile since I've been to New York."

"And yet you happen to own a very fancy apartment?"

"To be fair, it's more Elijah's place than mine."

Caroline surveys the room, in all its dark wood, and navy accented glory, "I can see that actually. It's very… there's a lot of… books," she settles on.

"That is his aesthetic, yes."

"So, Elijah Mikaelson: snappy dresser, terrible interior designer?"

"Quite," Klaus agrees, with a smile.

One corner of her mouth ticks up, for just a moment, and Klaus wishes fervently that he could make her smile for real. It's the funny thing about this humanity switch business. Some describe it as being without emotions and though Klaus has never experienced it personally, he does not think that's accurate. He's seen vampires with the switch off but still gripped with rage, jealousy, bitterness. They feel things, the darkest things, the emotions that humans have such difficulty letting go of. The positive emotions are harder to grasp, and easily chased away.

"Do you honestly expect me to buy that you're here coincidentally?" she questioned, her tone dripping doubt.

"Of course not. I have far too much respect for your intelligence to think you'd believe something so obviously untrue."

"Then why are you here?"

"To keep you safe, Caroline."

She leans towards him, slams her glass on the table, does not care that there's now liquor on her hand as she balls her fists, "I do not need you to keep me safe, Klaus."

Klaus does not react to the sudden burst of anger and replies evenly, "And I do not think you're in the right state of mind to decide what you need."

"That's paternalistic bullshit, first of all."

"Do spare me your feminist diatribes, love. I've listened to an endless amount of them over the years from Rebekah."

Caroline wipes her hand on the chair; Klaus suppresses a wince, because he'll have to replace that, too. And knowing Elijah it's probably exceedingly overpriced.

"Apparently, none of them managed to penetrate your stupid thick skull if you think you have the right to tell me what to do," she spits the words at him venomously. "You're not my boyfriend, Klaus."

"I'm aware of that, love," he replies, still the picture of reason, "And when, pray tell, have I tried to tell you what to do?"

"You…" Caroline opens her mouth to reply but he cuts her off.

"I have not, and you know it. You have remarkable control, Caroline, especially for one so young and it's a true testament to your strength. But slips happen, and I'll do anything in my power to prevent them for you."

"Oh please, I'm not suddenly going to go on a murder spree and piss off the local vamps, Klaus. I don't think they'll care if I eat a human or two, as long as I clean up after myself. I'll stick to tourists. Isn't that how you do it in New Orleans?"

He's surprised she has that information, and wonders where she'd gleaned it. "I'm not worried about other vampires hurting you," Klaus tells her, but leaves off the part where he would kill anyone who tried. "I'm worried about how you'll feel when your year is up. Processing the death of your mother will be a heavy enough burden, and you've already killed three times in the last five months, that I know of."

"Four," she corrected him.

"Arnold?" he asks.

"No. I just snapped his neck. He's in a dumpster two blocks from my hotel."

That she didn't kill Arnold despite having done so to the previous vampires he's sent after her tells him that his suspicions are correct. Living with the switch off is grating on Caroline. That she keeps track of her kills is an indication that she will carry the guilt heavily when she's herself again, and solidifies his resolve to stay with her, "Four, then. I remember how devastated you were after you killed those witches, even if you might not right now."

She lets out a cold laugh, "Funny. I distinctly remember you not giving a fuck about how devastated I was."

Klaus wants to shake her because he knows she is not that dense. She'd seen through his well-honed defense mechanisms from the start, when she'd prodded him about his father at his family's ball. He had been desperate to comfort her that day, despite how she'd spent it throwing poisonous barbs at him, and had very nearly called her back when she'd flashed away from him.

But his anger will only fuel hers and would be counterintuitive to the strategy he's employing. So he forces a light tone and comments, "Ah, but we weren't friends then, were we?"

"Friends? Please. I didn't hear a peep from you for more than a year. Not even when my mother died."

Klaus grits his teeth, feels the grip he has on his own glass tighten to the point where he's about to break it, so he sets it down, "Because you asked that of me, Caroline. Not because I wanted it."

"Because you've always been so willing to do what I wanted," she countered immediately.

"We made a deal, love. I might not be the honorable one in my family but I've always held up my end of my bargains with you."

Caroline relaxes back into her chair, crosses her arms in front of her, "You want a bargain? Fine. What can I do to get you to stop being my shadow?"

"Absolutely nothing, I'm afraid."

"Seriously?"

"As I've ever been, love. Besides, I rather think you like that I'm here," Klaus tells her.

Caroline is quick with a denial, "Um, no. No I do not."

"Oh? Let's think about this for a moment."

"Sounds thrilling."

Klaus ignores the derision and continues, "You discovered I've been having you followed. When was this again?"

"Three days ago," Caroline admitted.

"You could have left, still laboring under the delusion that you were several steps ahead of me, but you did not. You stayed and you waited for me to come to you. And why is that, I wonder?"

"To get you to leave me alone, you creep."

"Mmm. I don't think so. You wanted to see me."

"Holy ego, Batman," she said.

"I'll not deny I'm egotistical, love. But be honest. You've been fucking any human who's crossed your path at the right time, any time you've been horny or hungry, and you've enjoyed it, I'm sure. But not as much as you enjoyed it when you made yourself come all over me. Do you want me to tell you why that is? I have some ideas."

Using her vampire speed Caroline was out of her chair and streaking towards the door. Unfortunately for her, he was faster. He caught up and spun her, catching the back of her head in his hand before he slammed her against the wall,

"Not so fast, love. I wasn't finished."

Caroline struggled for a moment before realizing it was futile, "I don't have to listen to this, Klaus. You're boring me."

Klaus chuckled, "But I'm not boring you, and that's the problem, isn't it Caroline? You're boring you."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"I told you once that you were full of light, do you remember? That's why you're struggling. For someone like The Ripper, who hates what he is, the switch is a relief. But not for you, sweetheart. You're an optimist. You feel things deeply. You take the pain thrown at you and you come out stronger for it."

"I'm sick of being strong!"

Klaus gentles his hold, "Maybe. But you can't help it. That light that's in you. Call it your heart or your soul. It's such a part of you, whether you like it or not. You've been like this for five months, Caroline. Can you stand seven more?"

"I guess we'll see," she bites out.

"Yes, we will because I'm not going anywhere. At least until you're yourself again."

"What, do you think I'll ask you to stay, when this is done? That I'll be grateful for whatever freaky savior complex you've developed, cry into your chest about my dead mom? Do you want me to owe you, Klaus? To spread my legs in gratitude?"

Klaus fought not to react as the vicious taunts landed, right where she wanted them to. Caroline has always been able to hurt him and without her usual compassion was even more willing to go for the throat, "You'll owe me nothing, Caroline. If, when this is done, you tell me to go, I'll go."

"I repeat, I guess we'll see."

Klaus nodded once and backed away from her, "Well, now that we're on the same page, let's go out tonight."

"I'm not going to date you, Klaus. I don't really date right now."

"I've noticed. You shouldn't play with your food, love. You've left a trail of human boys pining after you."

Caroline shrugged, unconcerned, "Their own fault."

"I do pity them, a bit," Klaus mused aloud. He was sure he knew how they felt, "but no, not a date. Simply two old friends catching up. We've much to discuss, don't you think?"

"You're not going to accept a no, are you?" Caroline said and heaved a long suffering sigh.

"Not a chance."

"Fine. I got invited to an art show by this guy who lurks at the coffee shop I go to. You can tell me if he's any good because from what I've seen of his sketches he sucks."

"I look forward to it, love."

"Yeah, yeah. Pick me up at eight."

Klaus watched as Caroline flounced out the door. There was a decent chance she'd make a dash out of the city when she left his presence, and he'd have to chase her again. But he was banking on her interest in the little game they were playing. She was tiring of what she'd been doing with her life, and the pieces of her that were intrinsically Caroline, that having her humanity switched off could dim but not demolish, were itching for a new challenge. He just hoped he'd properly laid the groundwork.


	4. Opening Salvo

**Part Four: Opening Salvo**

Caroline pays very little attention to her surroundings on the walk back to her hotel. She plasters on her very best bitch face (making cheerleaders cry since 2009!) and walks determinedly. Her bag is secure across her body so she doesn't need to worry about spilling its contents across the pavement today. She still can't decide if that little mishap was fortunate or not. Had it not been for that minion acting like a squirrelly weirdo she might not have caught on to her tail this time. Perhaps living in blissful ignorance of Klaus' proximity would have been for the best.

If Klaus is to be believed he'd had no intention of revealing himself to her this time around. She could have just gone about her business, kept up with her routine, and he would have kept his distance. Creepy, stalkeresque behavior? Definitely.

But pretty much exactly what she expected of him. Klaus hadn't shown much respect for things like boundaries and societal conventions. To be fair those things had probably changed many, many times while he'd been alive. Still, he'd gifted her with that diamond bracelet immediately following their first conversation. Diamonds were something you worked up to, that was just common sense. Caroline had always been kind of afraid to do any sleuthing about the bracelets value but given his comments about its origin she suspected it had been worth more than her car. And she'd thrown it in his face like it was a mall trinket. Most guys started with flowers, but Klaus really wasn't most guys.

Her 'don't fuck with me' aura successfully clears a path, which is a good thing, for the other pedestrians. If anyone gets in her way she's not going to be the one hitting the pavement.

Caroline's mind is back in the apartment she'd just left, on the man who'd slammed her into a wall, but was careful enough to protect her head from the impact. He's annoyingly contradictory like that. He respects her strength and he'll push her buttons but ever since that one time, in Elena's living room, when he'd failed at watching her die, he's been unable to make himself break her.

Thinking back over their conversation she recognizes the restraint he'd been practicing. Somewhere over the course of their relationship she'd come to know Klaus, in ways that she's certain he doesn't allow very many people. Without her normally rigid views on morality she could admit that Klaus hadn't been entirely wrong when he'd told her that they were the same. It had freaked Caroline out at the time. She tried so hard to prove to her parents that she could still be good after becoming something they hated. To be compared to him, knowing only some of the things that he'd done, seeing how people feared him? He was everything a bad vampire was and he relished in it. Caroline had hated being compared to him. She hadn't wanted to be feared, she'd just wanted to be normal.

Caroline should have known better.

Since becoming a vampire she's done things she's not proud of. It had started with that man at the carnival, but the list had grown steadily. Always things that she could rationalize away, of course.

Killing those witches so Bonnie could live.

Snapping Luke Parker's neck.

She'd killed Luke without a thought but had justified it to herself since it had been for her friends. The greater good, in her mind. And hey, it's not like Luke stayed dead, right? But deep down she hadn't much cared if Luke came back, so long as the people she loved did.

A few years as a vampire and she could casually murder an acquaintance under the right circumstances. What would she be capable of, if she lived a thousand years? When most everyone she knew was long gone, and she'd watched countless humans live and die, would right and wrong still mean the same things? What had Klaus been like, just a few years into his life as a vampire? Hell, he and his siblings had been the first of their kind. Caroline had the luxury of someone to explain vampirism to her, had had Stefan and his century and a half of experience going over the ins and outs, even if his ways weren't exactly conventional. Maybe killing and manipulating had at first been about survival for Klaus, his and his family's, and then became a habit. Caroline found she could easily understand that, more than most people, anyway.

It had been a long time since she'd first taken Klaus' blood in her childhood bedroom. She'd done it even though, at the time, she'd been sure it had strings attached. But he'd never demanded payment. Caroline had thrown herself into plenty of dangerous situations since then but one fact still remained. She didn't want to die.

Although, Caroline guessed, she'd not been practicing a whole lot of survival skills, back at Elijah's apartment. Or in Las Vegas, for that matter. The list of people who were willing to speak to Klaus as she just had was likely pretty short. The list of people who'd do so and walk away with their hearts still inside their thoracic cavity? Even shorter. She'd heard rumblings of a protégé of sorts in New Orleans, and there were his siblings, of course. Caroline supposed their might be a few other people who he'd developed a fondness for in his long life. But the vast majority of people would have been dead for even thinking to throw a cellphone at his head.

And she'd only grown bolder. She'd taunted him, poked at his weak spots cruelly and deliberately, and he'd managed not to lash out in the ways that she'd half expected him to. She'd learned a few things, by living dangerously, which had been her intention. Klaus claimed that he'd known her whereabouts for the whole six weeks since she'd left him in that hotel room. That was concerning and she needed to know if it was true and just how he'd done it.

But the million dollar question was: did she want Klaus around? Caroline wasn't sure. He'd be a distraction from her boredom that was true. But would it be worth it? They had a few issues to iron out.

For example, the whole 'protect her' thing? Nope, not her style. Human Caroline had needed protection from the supernatural infestation that came to Mystic Falls. No one protected her from Damon until it had been too late. No one was around to protect her from Katherine, though in some weird twist of fate, Katherine had given her the means to protect herself. Throwing Damon around had been far less than he'd deserved but it had felt damn fucking good. Caroline as a vampire was more than capable of looking out for herself, and she liked it that way.

And yeah, Klaus said he was less concerned with physical threats and more with lessening the train wreck of grief and guilt that she was going to be when she flipped the switch back on. But relying on other people for your emotional needs was nothing but a crapshoot. People left you. People decided other people were more important than you. People realized that you were too much work and you weren't worth the effort they were putting in.

She didn't want him shadowing her with some stupid idea in his head that it was his duty to save her from herself. Flipping the switch had been her choice and she'd live with the consequences. She'd told Elena off for making things about her, in the process managing to finally,  _finally_  voice thoughts that Caroline had been pushing down for years. She'd bitten her tongue every time Elena Gilbert's safety or happiness had required someone else to make a grand sacrifice, because Elena was her friend, and isn't that what friends did? Not anymore. Not everything was about Elena, and Caroline refused to allow anyone else to make her choices about them, especially not Klaus.

Caroline was going to make it clear that uncharacteristic savior complexes were so not welcome in her vicinity and if Klaus persisted with his they were going to have problems. If he wanted to get the fuck over that, and have a little fun, (preferably the sweaty, naked, bloody kind) well then maybe he could hang around. Maybe.

But she needed to keep her options open. If Klaus wouldn't play by her rules, and Caroline needed to run again, she'd have to switch things up, and that would be easier with more intel.

She'd spend some time with him, see what he would let slip. He was trying to play games with her, that was obvious enough. But Klaus didn't play games he didn't want to win so she was 99% certain he had a plan and she was 100% certain that the culmination of said plan would be getting her to turn her humanity switch back on.

He'd use more finesse than anyone back home would. If she was in Mystic Falls Damon would probably fall back on his good old 'let's torture the switch back on!' idea. Caroline snorted with amusement. As if that would work on her. Been there, done that, got the 'Torture Survivor' t-shirt. Klaus was smart, and he was cunning and he saw through her alarmingly easily. If he really wanted her to turn it back on he'd find a way. She just had to be prepared to shake him off if he came too close. And to do that, she had to find out why she hadn't been able to lose him after Las Vegas.

So she'd go out with him tonight, play along, observe. See how far she could push him and what it would take to make him push back.

* * *

Klaus walked into the lobby of Caroline's hotel at 7:50. He's sure she cares rather less about punctuality in her current state but that doesn't mean he should be discourteous. And truth be told he's rather eager to cross swords with her once again. He's might not be in love with this version of Caroline, might miss her genuine emotional responses, but he has to admit he finds this version of her fascinating. She has no interest in dissembling and he values the little peeks into what she truly thinks about the world, about herself, and about him.

He walks confidently through the lobby towards the elevators, and no one bothers him.

He's fully aware of her room number, of course. Caroline's staying on the sixth floor, at the end of the hall, and he knocks three times on her door. A maid answers. Klaus notes the single drop of blood on her collar. She nods at him and leaves, and Klaus lets himself in.

Caroline's in a robe, if you can even call it that. It's short and black and edged in lace. She's at the mirror over the dresser, seemingly putting the finishing touches on her makeup, her hair arranged on top of her head, "You're early," she notes with no real rancor.

"A gentleman does not keep a lady waiting," Klaus tells her, keeping his tone light. He angles an armchair towards her and sinks into it, propping an ankle on the opposite knee, content, as ever, to wait her out.

"You interrupted my snack."

"I apologize."

But Caroline's moods are mercurial and she waves the apology away, "Eh. She didn't taste that good anyway. I'll find someone later. You're claiming to be a gentleman, now?"

"When it suits me."

She makes a skeptical noise and goes back to her task, painting her lips with gloss.

Klaus drums his fingers idly on the arm of the chair, he glances about the room, feigning interest in everything but the only interesting thing in it, who's robe keeps creeping higher up her thighs as she bends toward the mirror.

Caroline keeps looking his way though, so the tactic, as basic as it is, seems to be working.

She puts the gloss down, and uses her pinky to smudge her eye makeup a bit before she nods, seemingly satisfied with her appearance.

She turns to face him, "And why does it suit you?"

Klaus raises a brow, "Being a gentleman?"

She rolls her eyes, "Nice play at senility, old timer. Yes, being a gentleman. I've made it pretty clear that the only thing I'm all that interested in at the moment is your body, Klaus. Your fingers, your tongue, your cock. I'm not super picky. Why not fuck me and hope that I'll be weak and pliant after you've made me come? That you can spin some pretty words about life and genuine beauty and hummingbirds and what I'm missing out on and boom! Switch on."

Klaus can't help a soft laugh, "Anyone who thinks you're pliant after orgasm has never had the pleasure of making you come. It makes you demanding. I seem to remember a lot of 'mores' and 'agains' and 'please don't stops.'"

Caroline merely shrugs. She's seems unaffected by the reminder of how she'd begged for him. Klaus only wishes that he could say the same. And it's only centuries of practice in appearing unmoved that stops him from shifting restlessly. He shoves the memories away. Now is not the time.

"I suppose you have a point," Caroline concedes. She turns to grab a garment bag that's hung near the door, "I seem to remember being pretty relaxed at the end though. We even snuggled for a bit. Is that the problem? Is Klaus Mikaelson a secret cuddler?"

"I suppose I don't quite know the answer to that. I've not had much practice, you see. It was pleasant enough, with you. "

This time when she rolls her eyes it's so reminiscent of that time at his family's ball, when he'd offered to show her the world. Back then he'd just been newly intrigued by her, a brand new vampire with steel in her spine and venom on her tongue. Had he known then, what he knows now, known how deeply she'd crawl under his skin, he'd either have run, far and fast, or killed her. But it's far too late for that. She's there, inside of him, and he can't rip her out without hurting himself. And Klaus is self-preserving above nearly all other things.

"Though," he muses, watching her carefully, "I can't imagine any activity that would be unpleasant with you naked and replete and covered in my scent."

Her nose wrinkles, "Ew. Is that a wolf thing? I am no one's territory, buddy."

He laughs again, "Not just a wolf thing. Do you remember Las Vegas, Caroline? You marked me with your arousal, rubbed it into my skin. You didn't even think about it. It's the monster you hide beneath your pretty smile. You have the instinct to take what you want and let everyone else knows it belongs to you."

She looks at him, seemingly doubtful. Klaus is once again reminded of how much she has to learn about her nature, would have learned already had her instructors not been so criminally incompetent, "And you're alright with that?"

Klaus gives her a slow smile, but doesn't answer the question. The answer, after all, is something they've both been aware of since her high school graduation. When she was ready to be his, he will welcome her, whether it is in decades or centuries or three quarters of a millennium.

* * *

God he plays dirty. She's not the least bit surprised, of course. He was definitely a win by any means type. Another thing they had in common. The little tendrils of amazement she feels, taking in the tender expression on his face? Those she's surprised about. She ruthlessly stamps them down before they can take root. She cannot make this that easy for him. She refuses.

It's not fair for him to look at her like that, not fair at all. It was a heady thing for a girl who'd always wanted to be picked first, to be looked at like you were just about the only thing in the universe worth having.

Caroline takes a deep, centering, breath and Klaus' smile turns into a smirk, "Are you feeling alright, love? You looked a bit sentimental for a moment," he sounds concerned but she detects a faint tinge of pride.

It annoys her, something she's far more equipped to deal with. She tosses him a bright, sarcastic smile, "Peachy keen," she answers. And then she unties the belt on the robe and lets it drop.

She recognizes that she's miscalculated a second too late, when his eyes never stray from her face. Klaus had only ever been distracted by push up bras and short skirts because he'd allowed himself to be. He'd proven that from the beginning, when he'd stated that he wanted to talk about her. Still, she keeps her head held high. Backtracking now will just make him think he's winning. So Caroline saunters over to the closet, swinging her hips more than necessary, because at this point she's committed.

She bends to pick up the shoes she's going to wear, grits her teeth at the amused noise he makes behind her.

"As much as I appreciate the view I'm not going to be swayed by it, Caroline. I know you're accustomed to boys who slaver over a little flash of your skin but I am no boy."

Caroline takes her time digging through the drawer she's filled with underwear both outrageously expensive and more revealing than concealing. Selecting a pair that matches her shoes, she turns to face him and steps into them. "Can you blame a girl for trying? Besides, you seemed to like my skin just fine that day in the woods."

"I think 'like' is too paltry a word, actually. I've often dreamt about your skin, in the intervening months. The taste of it, the way it gave under my teeth, and how you moaned so nicely when I found all the places you most like to be stroked."

He says it all so very casually, like it shouldn't be news to her. Like it doesn't send a stab of lust directly to her core.

Caroline grits her teeth and unzips the bag holding the dress she's planning on wearing tonight. Her body is betraying her, heating and dampening in helpless arousal at his only mildly dirty words, and the vivid memories they'd brought back. This hadn't been the plan at all. She's supposed to be the one doing the pushing. He's supposed to be the one with the tells. She needs to regroup.

She'd picked the dress with Klaus' tastes in mind. He might not be a boy drooling over her assets but he was definitely a boob man. She's always wondered, the low cut shirts she'd worn as Klaus bait had drawn his eyes and her suspicions had been confirmed by the attention he'd paid her breasts over the course of their one afternoon in the woods. The dress plunges far too low in the front to make a bra possible, and if she was at all concerned with modesty she'd have used several inches of double sided tape to make sure she didn't accidentally flash someone.

She turns away to put it on, glances over her shoulder when she's done and asks, "Zip me up?"

He unfolds himself from the chair to acquiesce to her request.

And she knows that she's made another mistake.

Objectively speaking, Klaus is not all that physically intimidating. He's not much taller than she is, leanly muscled rather than body builder huge. It would be easy enough to dismiss him as not a threat, if you weren't observant. If you were, you'd be wary once you saw the way he moves. There's confidence in the way he holds himself, an easy litheness that lets you know that he's not someone that you want to mess with, that he's more powerful than he appears.

There's a hint of the predator in his gaze right now, and Caroline's wants to turn her head away. But she will not be intimidated, she will not show weakness, so she meets his eyes as he approaches.

He steps up behind her, rests his forehead on her temple and murmurs, "I'm quite certain I've won this battle, love."

"I'm not so certain it's over yet," Caroline argues, turning her head away from him stubbornly.

This time when she chuckles she can feel it against the nape of her neck, and it's so much worse than just hearing the low husk of it from across the room.

"Isn't it though?" His hands are suddenly on her hips, and gliding up her sides. They pause for a minute at the cutouts just below her ribs, he glides his fingertips over her bare skin for a moment. She fights not to shiver at the sensation. But then his mouth is laying an open mouthed kiss on her neck and that fight is lost as she shudders.

Her head drops forward without her permission, wanting more of his lips on her, and she can feel him smile, "Shut up," she mutters.

"I don't believe I said anything, just now."

But he steps back a bit, so she can no longer feel the heat of him all along her body. He traces a fingertip down her spine where her dress gapes open, and then does the zipper up excruciatingly slowly, still quite literally breathing down her neck. She's about to step away, put some distance between them, but he grabs her hips and yanks her back into him. He spins them to face the mirror, and she lets out a gasp at the unexpected speed, though he immediately puts some distance between their bodies while still keeping her in place with his hands.

"You forget that we've played this game before. You, the little blonde distraction. Me, the smitten big bad who needed to be swayed from one dastardly deed or another. But it's not quite the same, is it? No one's making you do this. You don't need to save the poor little doppelganger. You're doing this for you."

"Um, duh. I was pretty clear about the fact that I want to fuck you."

"Don't play dumb, sweetheart. We both know that you're nothing of the sort." Klaus gives her earlobe a quick bite, runs his teeth along the hollow just behind it and then soothes the delicious sting with his tongue, Caroline's knees are shaking, and dangerously close to giving out. Damn him for being so fucking good at this, and for remembering all of her trigger spots.

He sets his chin on her shoulder, waits for her to meet his eyes in the mirror, "You're interest in sex is noted, and expected in your current state, but that's not all that you're after, is it?"

Caroline shrugs roughly, jostling his head from its resting place, "Maybe. Maybe not. Does it make a difference?"

"Maybe. Maybe not," Klaus mimics, "But I've beaten you at your own little game, haven't I? If I slid my hand into that little scrap of blue lace you seem to think are knickers what would I find? Are you wet for me, Caroline? If I played with your swollen little clit, how long would it take for you to come for me?"

And yeah, there go her knees. He's got her, hands still clasped on her hips, easily keeping her upright, but she grips the edge of the dresser for extra support.

He makes a satisfied sound that really does nothing to cool her arousal because she distinctly remembers him making a similar noise, muffled and against her throat, the first time he'd slid inside of her.

Caroline fights to breathe normally, knows that he can hear her racing heart, "I don't think it's very gentlemanly of you to wind me up like this if you have no intention of following through, you know."

Klaus laughs again and his amusement at her expense is so not appreciated and might very well earn him a knee to the balls before the evening was out, "Ah but I did say I was only gentlemanly when it suited me, did I not? Revenge is sweet, love."

Her head snaps up, "Revenge?"

"Now whose memory is faulty? Las Vegas, surely that rings a bell? The bed and the ropes. How you left me there, alone and how did you phrase it? Oh yes. Wound up."

"Excuse you, I was more than willing to take care of that for you. You were the one that refused. Revenge not necessary."

"That's one way to look at it. However the entire situation might have been avoided had you not drugged me in the first place. Revenge warranted, I think."

"Oh please, I could have left you there until your strength came back. Would have been way worse."

"Yes," Klaus replies dryly, "how generous of you. Tell me, do you think you could stand an hour like this? If I stood here, and told you all the things I want to do to you. How I'd fulfill the fantasies you so sweetly confessed to me last time and any others you deign to tell me. How about if I were to tell you some of my own? The tame ones. The filthy ones. Would you let me tie you down, Caroline? To spread your legs wide and bare all of you to me. I'd use my mouth on you, keep you on the quivering edge until you begged me to let you fall over and the lightest brush of my tongue on your clit would do it. Could you stand it? With no hope of relief."

She can't help the whimper that she lets out, "I'm betting you got off in the end though, didn't you? Might be worth it."

"I did. I drained the maid you kindly sent me, and then I thought of you with my hand wrapped around my cock. I scraped up what was left of your arousal on my stomach and I sucked it off my fingers. I came with your name on my lips."

"See? We can totally do that. I'll even let you watch again."

"Maybe another time, love," Klaus releases her hips abruptly, but hovers for a moment to make sure she's stable, before he goes to collect her shoes, "Now, put these on. We're going to be late for our reservation."

Caroline glares at him, "Seriously?"

He seems completely unperturbed by her trying to kill him with the power of her mind. He's lucky he's holding her shoes otherwise he'd be getting stabbed with a stiletto right about now. It's a testament to how frustrated Caroline is that she's even considering it. She really loves that pair. "What reservation?" she asks, her voice slightly strained, "We're going to an art gallery."

"Fashionably late is a serious thing to artist types, Caroline. Trust me. We'll go to dinner first."

"That sounds suspiciously date-y."

"Not a date. Just dinner. Friends have dinner, do they not?" he asks, far too innocently.

"Ugh, fine. But you're not paying, alright? I'll compel the waiter myself."

"If you'd like," Klaus says agreeably.

She brushes past him, taking her shoes from his hands, and goes into the bathroom, "Give me a minute."

He merely nods, locks his hands behind his back, and watches her knowingly as she closes the door between them.

Caroline sets he shoes on the counter, looks at herself in the mirror. She's flushed and her eyes are bright. When she lifts her hands to smooth her hair they tremble slightly. She'd never admit it, but she had lost that battle. She's almost painfully turned on and she gives serious thought to touching herself, taking the edge off. It won't take very long at all to get off, but Klaus would hear her and she doesn't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he's won.

Instead, she closes her eyes and counts to ten, tries to marshal some of the control she's known for. It's far more difficult than it should be and she bites her lip to stop the string of curses that wants to erupt.

It's going to be a long night.

**Author's Note:**

> I did an outfit collection on Polyvore because in my head Caroline's compelling herself gorgeous things left, right and center. I'm lalainajanes there, and on tumblr.


End file.
